Go to sleep
by smeegal61
Summary: Quentin Lance sets a trap to catch an Arrow. Everything goes horribly wrong... Olicity.


**Written as if Quentin Lance was still a detective. I own nothing. Disclaimer: death. (sorry I didn't put this in before!)**

Lance shifted.

He had been crouched on a rooftop on a dark, damp, miserable night for the last thirty minutes and his legs were cramping from the extended period of inactivity. Currently there was a drop of rain running through his eyebrow threatening to drip into his eye and he was fairly sure some sort of insect had bitten him as his neck was starting to get a little itchy. Swiping away the droplet, he finally sank back down against the air vent he was leaning against, slightly twitchy because he lost his clear view of the warehouse opposite behind the wall that bordered the roof.

He had set up this trap over the past week. By placing a comment in a few carefully chosen ears, he had ensured that word had spread through the shadier areas of a new madman in Starling City out for revenge for one thing or another. A motive wasn't really necessary these days; they had so many psychopaths that they all blurred into one. Once the message had been passed out, he was sure that the Arrow would hear of it. He always seemed to have an ear to the dark underbelly of the city.

Earlier this evening he had placed a call to the Arrow using a burner phone. _"Arrow,"_ he'd said, _"I have a few people in my care. Well, I wouldn't say 'care', because that would imply I'm planning on looking after them. Perhaps I should say I have a few people in my possession. I'm giving you one last chance to show me there is a reason not to annihilate this city, that there is a little good left. You, you will come tonight before 2am to the abandoned warehouse on Caldwell End to sacrifice yourself, to give up your life for theirs. When you do that, I will let everyone go. If you don't, I will kill one person each hour, and find someone else in the city to replace them. I can't guarantee that one of your loved ones won't be one of them."_

Of course, none of this was true, but it was a way to draw the Arrow out of hiding. Ever since last year, the green vigilante had become altruistic - he would never pass up on the opportunity to save some lives by making a martyr out of himself, especially if those he cared about were in danger.

It was the perfect trap. When he entered the building, a recording would automatically be triggered, directing him to one of the walls where a body shape was marked out in masking tape in the typical 'I surrender' pose. The Arrow would be given five minutes to get himself perfectly lined up with this outline before, unseen in the darkness on the other side of the room, a machine would fire four arrows, one above each shoulder, one on either side of his waist, close enough to pierce his clothes and pin him to the wall. As an extra little piece of irony, the arrows that would hold the hooded man there would be his own, collected by the police department over the last year (although they were strengthened, so that even the Arrow wouldn't be able to wriggle free).

And then, finally, Lance would enter, take him into custody and, most importantly, remove that damned hood.

It wasn't so much that Lance hated what the vigilante did now - he could see it was doing good - it was the way he felt like he was just a toy to the Arrow. In the past year, they had worked together occasionally, but it had always been on the Arrow's conditions and he had simply been the sidekick. It wasn't just him, there was that Felicity girl that reminded him so much of his Sara before everything went wrong and he was fairly sure there were others involved too. He didn't want to see any of them get hurt, so he had decided that now was the time to bring him in, when everything was quiet.

Lance peaked over the top of the red brick wall beside him. The warehouse was below, the door lit by a pool of harsh orange light. All still looked quiet, and he hadn't heard any movement, so he prepared to duck back down.

Just before he did, however, he spotted activity behind a bin in the gloom of the alley that ran alongside the building. Stiffening, Lance watched as the Arrow crept towards the doors, finally emerging into the light with his head down to obscure his face and retain his night vision. He slipped through the doors. 1 am. Right on time.

Then it all went to hell.

Lance should have noticed really, looking back with hindsight, that the doors were already open a touch when the Arrow slipped through them. They shouldn't have been. Sloppy police work leads to... well.

The Arrow had only been through the doors a few seconds before an inhuman cry had erupted. It had been pain, and fear, and desperation, and outrage, all combined into the single syllable, "No!" It was a scream and a cry, a shout and a roar that would echo in Lance's head for a long time to come.

This had only just faded when it was closely followed by an ear shattering blast that surprised the detective so much he had toppled from his position on the wall onto the floor of the roof. Gathering his wits, he jumped up and raced down the steps, thanking his lucky stars that he had fallen onto the roof and not the other way: down three floors to the pavement below.

He erupted onto the street from the rickety staircase he had flown down, anxious to see what had gone wrong with his supposedly fool proof plan. Rushing through the massive corrugated iron doors, Lance found himself in a situation where he understood none of what was going on.

On the right hand side, in the gloom and clearing smoke, his arrow firing machine stood, skewed and glowing red in a few places. He noted this quickly then turned to the more puzzling conundrum; on his right, lay the Arrow, with an arrow protruding from his chest, in the arms of the Arrow. There were two Arrows?

He walked silently closer and saw that one was most definitely not the Arrow, but an imposter, as the one stretched across the floor was obviously much daintier, the clothes too big and hanging off the - feminine? - frame. Voices reached him. "Come on, speak to me, talk to me. What's wrong? And why the fuck did you think this was a good idea?" It was the unnatural tone of the Arrow.

"I've got an arrow sticking out of me, that what's wrong, and I thought that you and Dig were both in China on some business conference and out of contact. I wasn't going to let some innocent people die just because they picked the few days the Arrow had off." The voice was definitely Felicity's, Lance had spent enough time with the young genius to know that. He stood stock still in horror, wondering at the irony that the girl he had wanted to protect as part of this venture was the girl that ended up most hurt. "Would you mind turning off the synthesiser? You know it creeps me out. And put your hood down, I'd like to see your face."

The answering voice was soft, but it wasn't altered. Some small part of Lance thrilled at the fact that _this was the Arrow's voice _before the rest of him beat that part into remembering the cruel circumstances they were in. "Don't joke, not about this Felicity."

"I'm not. It needed to be done and I did it. My life, my choice, remember? Besides, if the real Arrow had gone, you might have ended up like this and then where would the city be? I mean, the city might miss me a little - because, well, I'm awesome, so who wouldn't - but there are always more computer technicians, more people who would help. There's only one of you. What's my life compared to yours?"

The Arrow choked, the back of his head exposed now showing short, dark hair. "What's your life compared to mine? Everything. Everything, Felicity. Yes, there might be more people willing to help who are able to use computers, but there aren't any more Felicity Smoaks! Who else would greet me every morning and evening with a smile, no matter what their day had been like? Who else would accidentally hit on me all the time, or stare at me while I work out, or support me like you, or be ready to bring me back to the present when I'm stuck in the past, or stand up to me, or-"

Felicity reached up and laid her fingers against her lips, effectively silencing him. "I don't think now is the time or place to be having this discussion. Can we not argue when blood is pouring out of me?" He didn't reply but reached up and grasped her hand in his. Holding his hand still for a moment, he desperately pressed a kiss to the backs of her knuckles before lowering her hand.

"Blood is not pouring out of you."

"Oliver, denial is not just a river in Egypt. Look," she raised her other hand where it had been rested on her ribs, surrounding the shaft of the arrow. Her palm was covered in blood and he could watch a more bubbled up and slowly trickled down her side to join the pool growing around them. The stiffening of his shoulders showed Lance he really hadn't noticed before. "I don't think-"

The sight of the blood made Lance move forward. His shoe scuffed on the concrete floor, squeaking, and the Arrow whirled to face him.

He can't say he was all that surprised that it was Oliver Queen - of course, he suspected him right from the start - but the expression on his face was more than enough to stop him in his tracks. It was pure anguish initially, his face screwed up, his eyes open and his emotions clear for all to see. This quickly morphed through shock to anger, eyes narrowed, accusatory, deadly. "You!" It was a cry from Oliver's very heart. "It was you, wasn't it? This was _your _plan! What have you done? What did-" A wince from behind stopped Oliver mid-rant when he realised that he was (1) ignoring Felicity when she needed him, and (2) crushing her hand in his. Immediately, he whirled back and began to comfort her quietly.

Lance hung back awkwardly, until Oliver barked, "Have you at least rung for an ambulance?" He started, realising he hadn't, and scrambled for his phone. Moving away slightly, he informed 911 of the bare bones of the situation and then hung up. Edging back towards the couple, he attempted to move to the other side of Felicity. However, as he began to kneel down, Oliver's head shot up again and, with teeth bared, he snarled. He clutched his Felicity to him and glared. Lance got the message and backed away a few steps, at which point Oliver went back to ignoring him, his entire being focused on the woman cradled in his arms.

Just listening to Felicity for a minute told Lance that she was losing blood too fast. She was starting to get woozy and her eyes were fluttering shut. "You know, Oliver..."

"Yeah?" Oliver's voice was no longer strong and powerful - he could hear it wavering.

"I'm glad I did it."

"Did what?"

"All of it. All of this. Working with you and Diggle and you and... did I mention Diggle?"

He chuckled weakly. "Yeah, you did."

"I got you to laugh! Did you know one of the first things I thought when I signed on was, 'I will try to get him to laugh more'? Don't forget to do that when I'm gone."

Any humour in his voice was gone now. "Gone?"

She ignored him. "More specifically though, I'm glad I did this. This thing tonight. Because it was either me or you and... well. There was no choice to make, right?" Oliver just stared at her, her upper body draped over his lap. Her hand clutched in his, his other cupping her cheek, repetitively swiping his thumb over the sensitive skin there.

Slowly, her eyes drifted closed. His widened. "Felicity?" He shook her gently, then a little more violently. "Felicity! Listen to me! Open your eyes! Open your damn bloody fucking eyes! Come-"

"Whoa! Language, Oliver." Her eyes flicked open. He exhaled noisily and deflated, his eyes screwing closed. "What, so now I open my eyes is when you close yours?" He huffed a laugh, opening his again. They simply stared at one another for a while, seeming to forget how close to one another they were, foreheads almost touching.

"Oliver?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" he replied, just as gently.

"Don't forget me."

"Never. I- Never. And I'll never have to if you don't leave me."

She shook her head slightly, wincing. "No, I don't mean that. I know you won't forget about me, or my name, or what I looked like. Just... don't forget who I was, or what I stood for. Remember me for the good, the happy... the love and support. If you don't lose that, then you'll always have me with you."

Oliver sat in silence watching her. Lance saw a tear drop off the end of his nose and land on her cheek before he quickly swiped it away. Her breathing was more laboured now. "And Diggle... tell him that I'm glad I found a family at last. He'll understand."

They sat wordlessly again, him rocking her back and forth, both forgetting their audience. Her eyes were barely open now, brilliant blue shielded behind pale eyelids. She made one last effort to open her eyes. "Oliver?"

"Yes?"

"Will you sing to me while I go?"

"While you go where?"

"You know Oliver." A moment where he didn't respond. "No? I'll have to then. I always liked the idea of being sung to sleep." Lance watched in despair as her eyes dropped closed again - he knew, just _knew, _that had been the last time he would see her dazzling irises, so full of life.

A thin, weak voice started to sing slowly. _"Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep little darling..." _Oliver stared wrecked, as the woman in his arms started to sing herself a lullaby.

_"Go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep my dear..."_

She started over again and he finally jumped into action. "Felicity! Felicity, _no! _Don't go to sleep Felicity! You can't go to sleep, you hear me? You can't do that! You can't do that to me!" He now held her face with both hands.

"Come on! Open your eyes! Wake up! _Please!"_

Her eyes did not open and slowly, but always too fast for Oliver, her voice started to fade. He leaned closer till his lips were millimetres from hers and he could still feel her breath on his lips.

"Okay Felicity, you win," he whispered. "I'll sing. All you have to do is sing with me, yeah? _Go to sleep, go to sleep... _Come on, sing with me, _please... _

_Go to sleep little darling_

_Go to sleep_

_Go to sleep_

_Go to sleep my dear." _

And so Lance watched as the fearsome Arrow sang a lullaby to the woman he loved against her lips as she breathed her last, his tears scattering her face, her blood staining his clothes. Muttered lyrics became brushed kisses, brushed kisses became a fevered embrace, all as he tried to breathe life into the body of the person who had given him life over the last two years.

Finally, he moved back a fraction, muttering things to himself, the only part of which Lance heard was, "Damn it, Felicity. Why did you have to leave me here? Why couldn't you take me too?" He then proceeded to cover her face and neck in gentle butterfly kisses, the expression so tender that Lance didn't know where to look.

The detective stood to one side, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, a noise alerted him to another intruder, a great big hulking silhouette that revealed itself to be Diggle. Stoic, he took in his friend weeping over the body of his other friend and turned to Quentin with all too knowing eyes.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"Get out." His voice was quiet but stern. "If he finds you here he will tear you apart. Leave." Just as Lance was about to follow his advice, he stopped him. "Felicity was the one who told him that killing wasn't the only way, made him the Arrow, not the Hood. Without her, I'm not sure he'll be able to keep to that. He will want your blood and I won't be able to stop him. To be honest, at the moment, I don't want to stop him. I'd get your affairs in order - however far you go, it will never be far enough." A hard stare accompanied these words before he was release.

Lance hurried towards the exit as the other man headed towards the devastation. As he left, he heard the echoes of their conversation.

_"Oliver, we need to leave. The ambulance will be here any minute. They'll see you're the Arrow."_

_"No."_

_"Oliver-"_

_"No! I won't leave Felicity alone like that! Can you imagine, if we left, how they would find her? Cold, dead, alone, unloved, lifeless. Felicity wasn't any of those things and everyone should know that. I won't let her be alone for a minute. I refuse-"_

And Lance was out into the cool, still night. So... he knew who the Arrow was. But at what cost? He had killed a young woman, broken the heart of a young man, ripped a friend away from another and who knows what else. He knew for sure he would never get that first scream of Oliver's - when he saw the arrows pointed at Felicity - out of his head.

As he walked away and heard the wailing of approaching sirens, he wondered how he was going to explain this to his boss.

Then he wondered whether his life would be long enough to get a chance to explain this to the chief.

He walked on.

**I cried while writing this, not going to lie.**

**It's not well written, but I got the writing bug and just needed to write this. I've read plenty from Quentin's POV and plenty where Felicity dies, but none where it was his POV of how she dies because of him. Then I just got this image of Oliver clutching a dead Felicity to him singing this haunting little lullaby to her in this silent, dark warehouse, singing her to a peaceful death and I just got all emotional.**

**The thing about Felicity death fics is that although we _really_ don't want to see Felicity die on the show, we want to see how Oliver would react to it. Thus, we explore it through fics!**

**In case you wanted to know, what actually happened is that Felicity dressed up as the Arrow and did as the recording that Lance set up said. When Oliver turned up, the 5 minutes she had was almost up. He saw the arrow firing contraption and thought it was there to kill her so he fired an exploding arrow to try and move it so they wouldn't hit her or to stop it from working. What actually happens is it shifts sideways slightly so they are no longer exactly either side of her. The 2 arrows by her shoulders miss her and 1 of the ones by her sides is moved further away, hitting the wall but that means that the other one is also shifted the same way so it actually pierces her side. Because it was designed for Oliver and she is smaller, it hits her higher up and hits something vital, thus slowly killing her.**

**Happy days!**

**Sorry about that. There are a few inconsistencies but meh, it's for fun. Also, sorry for the OOCness. Please review and tell me what you thought.**


End file.
